


Smooth Sailing

by joufancyhuh



Series: Mermaid Farms [1]
Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Also on Tumblr, Beginnings of Relationships, Engagement, F/M, Misunderstandings, Sebastian triedtm, present tense cause why not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 13:33:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28529268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joufancyhuh/pseuds/joufancyhuh
Summary: Poppi & Sebastian get engaged.
Relationships: Sebastian/Female Player (Stardew Valley)
Series: Mermaid Farms [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2089872
Comments: 4
Kudos: 29





	Smooth Sailing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GoddessTiera](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoddessTiera/gifts).



> Prompt: Tell me about Poppi and Sebastian getting engaged
> 
> This sat in my inbox for months and then one night, I just went for it. I had these big plans for them once. Now, this might be the only fic. We'll see. No one is in charge of my writing, least of all me. I also just got into two new fandoms in the past month that are begging me to write them. 
> 
> This is just something silly. Not like the finest work. And I made some small changes from the one posted on tumblr.

Poppi stares at the bouquet in Sebastian’s hands, a mixture of different colored poppies, like her namesake. She had noticed some went missing from her garden in the last day, but didn’t think too much of it at the time. It’s odd, giving someone flowers that they grew themselves – technically stealing, but he’s lucky he’s cute. “Thanks,” she says as she accepts them, making certain not to allow any of the confusion in her voice. It's a nice gesture either way.

Sebastian opens his mouth to speak but it ends up snapping shut when she tilts her head to the side, and a shy smile ends up in its place. His hands shove deep into his pockets while a light pink creeps across his otherwise pale cheeks. “S’ nothing.” 

She plucks out a nice vibrant red flower and delicately places the stem behind his ear as his gaze trains on the ground. It’s the only splash of color on him, and she likes the sharp contrast of the red with his black hair and blacker hoodie. She didn’t want the flowers to be simply nothing, not when he kissed her the week before, moon and city and stars spread out before them but the brightest light in those eyes of his. 

But he wants to leave the Valley, he admitted that much. The remembrance of his confession causes a bitter pang in her heart and she withdraws, takes a step back then another. Is that the reason for the flowers? An apology he no doubt thinks is needed after she spent the last week avoiding him, trying to puzzle things out? “I’ll go put these in a vase.” 

Again, that look on his face like he wants to say something. She turns and hurries inside the house, not bothering to invite him in. 

* * *

“He gave you flowers?” Leah chokes back her surprise, a granite-stained hand flying up to cover her mouth. 

Poppi shrugs as she continues to weed, ignoring the aching in her knees, cursing herself for putting this patch off for so long. The sun beating on the back of her neck reminds her that she needs a new sun-hat, something she only remembers when the hat shop is closed or when she’s too busy to go herself. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Did you accept them?” Her best friend stops her sketching, the pad of paper falling forward on her lap enough that Poppi spots the outline of her own face. 

“Yes, but, I mean, he took them from my garden.” Poppi wipes the back of her gloved hand over her damp brow before plucking at a hard-rooted clump, having to use both hands to rip it from the earth. 

Leah stares at her, the intensity of her gaze like another sun trained on her, then slowly says, “Do you not know?” 

“Know what?” She stops and shifts to an actual sitting position on her butt, stretching her long legs out. If her knees could sigh with relief, they would. Her gloves end up on her thigh and she reaches for a glass of lemonade Leah brought out to her. That was when she remarked on the nice bouquet of flowers sitting in the kitchen. And now here they are. Poppi recalls how she spent that whole night wondering why Sebastian acted a little on edge, why she felt as though she missed something important. Why he didn’t want to go into town like they planned and instead wandered the forest by the lake until it got dark. 

“Oh honey,” Leah says, voice ripe with a mixture of pity and amusement. “That poor man.” 

“What?” Irritation grates at Poppi’s nerves, between the sun and Leah’s leading and her knees and how her arms are even starting to complain. Only the sweet lemonade, ice cold, gives her any kind of relief, and each sip is met with a small leap of joy in her chest.

“Bouquets have a … somewhat special meaning in the Valley.” Leah takes her own drink, sips, waiting for Poppi to respond with, “What does that mean?”

“It means,” Leah continues, amusement spreading out a smile on her face, “that you’re dating.” 

“What?” Poppi almost drops her lemonade into her lap. 

“You ask with a bouquet. It’s … implied asking. And by accepting it …” Her voice trails off as she drinks a little more. “You see where I’m going with this?”

Poppi struggles to register the fact that he asked her out. He asked her out and she technically accepted, only she did not actually accept, and he knew it. But how was she supposed to know about the bouquet?? She wasn’t from here! And why didn’t he say anything? She felt like an oblivious idiot now ... but knowing him, he probably felt like an idiot that night. Oh no, she really made a mess of things. 

“I think I have to go,” she says, standing up with her body in immediate protest. 

“Is this a letting-him-down-easy type of go? Or will we be celebrating when you come back?”

“I …” His words float back to her about leaving, but that is a conversation and not something for her to decide for both of them. “We’ll see.” 

On the half-run that she does toward Robin’s house, she pauses long enough to pick some wildflowers. It’s not a full bouquet, not like he brought her, but it’s something and he used her flowers anyway -- but it isn't like they sold poppies anywhere in town, either, and he probably wanted to ask with her actual favorite flowers, not something impersonal or overdone. Robin waves to her as she passes to head down into the basement, and Poppi tries to hide the flowers to the best of her ability. She loves Robin like the mother she never had, but Robin is a horrible gossip and that’s exactly what they don't need right now. 

Outside his room, she stops to catch her breath and prepare herself. The cold of the basement hits her sweat-soaked clothes and skin, rippling goosebumps across her body and eliciting shivers. Through the door comes the tap-tapping of his keyboard, him busy at work. She can relate. Maybe she should come back later, when he isn't working, and –

“Stop lurking,” Sebastian snipes, probably thinking it’s Maru lingering in the staircase. 

Poppi eases the door open, enough to pop her head in. Yoba, she must look a mess, spending all day in the dirt and sun, not even bothering to clean up before heading over. Perhaps she rushed over a little too quickly. She still doesn't entirely know what to say to him. “Sorry, I didn’t want to interrupt.” 

The shock on his face quickly falls into something more neutral, guarded. “Poppi,” he says her name like with steel in his spine, like bracing himself to deal with something unpleasant. “I can take a break.” 

The door shuts behind her and she leans against it, careful to keep her distance. “Listen, I -” Her voice cuts off when she sees he’s not staring at her, but the flowers in her hand, half-crushed and shedding petals on his floor. When her hand waves them, more petals float down. “Sorry, I can clean that up before I go.” 

“Why do you have flowers?” Suspicion rises in his voice and he leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. 

She stomps over and drops them onto his desk, scattering petals and leaves in an undignified manner. Her words come out rushed. “I like you. Like a lot. And I know it’s not a bouquet and oh yoba, this probably looks so bad, I really should’ve prepared better –”

“Poppi,” he cuts her off. 

Angry at herself for not getting to the point and falling into a ramble, a bad nervous habit, she huffs and plops down onto the stool he kept by his desk. “I didn’t know.” 

He gives a forced laugh. “I know. I mean, I figured it out pretty quickly that you didn’t.” 

“Then why didn’t you say anything?”

The shrug that replied tinges with red in his face. Uneasiness settles in his gaze and she realizes that he didn't know if she would say yes or not. He dared himself to give her the bouquet, but her accepting it and not knowing, he probably didn't want to push matters. When he sees her staring, he unfolds his arms to shove his hands deep into his pockets, what he always does when he's nervous. Yoba, she should've realized, should've recognized the signs. 

“Tell me I haven’t screwed everything up?”

Another laugh follows, this one genuine and ending with his smile. “I don’t know, that’s a pretty weak bouquet.” 

“I didn’t realize you were such an expert.” Her own lips pull back in a grin as she scoots in closer, close enough to awkwardly sit beside him. He fingers the lever of his computer chair, it making a swooshing sound as it falls to the lowest setting. His arm encircles her shoulders as she leans against him. They could talk later, about what this meant, how temporary he plans for this to be before his big move to the city. For now, she closes her eyes and relaxes into him. 

* * *

Except she doesn’t want it to be temporary. 

This time, she learns the tradition, shady as it is. The old mariner stands there in the rain, the pendant held out to her, a brilliant deep blue even in the grey light. It’s gorgeous. Her greedy hands snatch it away from him and tuck it safely into a pocket. The old man chortles. 

A weird custom, to be sure, but Poppi can’t help tracing over the pendant in her coat the entire way toward Robin’s house. The rain makes it the perfect weather to propose, and she imagines how she might give it to him. Leah didn’t tell her any magic words to say with it, but Poppi needs something said, even if only for her own benefit. 

Sebastian’s waiting by the front door, umbrella up and impatience in the nervous wiggling he does. But his annoyance at being kept waiting vanishes completely when she slides up to him and plants a kiss on his cheek. “Sorry, I had an errand to run first,” she beams, excitement bubbling up inside of her about to erupt. How is she supposed to wait long enough to get back down to the pier?

The hand attached to the handle of his umbrella plays with her damp hair, hanging limply around her face. “Every time I see you, you’re soaked to the bone,” he laughs. His free hand searches for hers, and she reluctantly releases the pendant to slip her cold hand into the warmth of his. But instead of the pier, he tugs her toward the lake beside his home. “I want to make a quick stop first.” 

Her eyes roll in a show of feigned annoyance. “Let me guess, trying to spot some of your frog friends.” 

“Actually, no.” They trail up to the water’s edge, then over the small footbridge and onto the island. There, he stops, and the umbrella folds up under his arm. 

“Hey,” she gives an indignant shout at the lack of warning before returning to the rain. 

His hand brings hers to his lips. “The first time I saw you, you were dripping onto my mother’s hardwood floors because you never take an umbrella anywhere.” 

_Oh no. He isn’t –_

“I knew I loved you that time we watched Friday the 13th, and you got scared and ducked your head into my shoulder.” His hand reaches into his pocket … and out comes the pendant, splitting image of the one shoved into her jacket. “I don’t know if you know –”

She cuts him off with a bark of laughter, she can’t help it. Her fingers fumble when drawing out the pendant, it now dangling between them. “Oh, I know,” she says, still laughing. 

His confusion fades quickly, and his chuckles join hers. “You know, I played this out a lot in my head. Never accounted for this scenario.” He holds the necklace up, undoing the clasp, and she bunches up her soggy hair to accommodate him. He lingers close after securing it around her neck, his breath hot on her lips as his hands sweep over her shoulders. “So is that a yes?” 

“That is most definitely a yes,” she says with a grin. When the necklace in her hand ends up around his neck, she leaves her hands there and sweeps in for a rather intense kiss. 


End file.
